Shadows at the Morning Reception

The elderly aunt and young maid turn toward the doorway as several young nieces and cousins hurry into Lo pi’s chamber, their white-and-red garments rustling.

Some children wear finished doll-like white face paint with red accents; others remain partly prepared, while their accompanying maids follow with brushes, ribbons, and powder.

Their excitement fills the compact room. They gather around him in a bright cluster, careful sleeves brushing the screens as the maids pause behind them.

For a while, Lo pi remains with the children as maids finish painted cheeks, tie ribbons, and display each careful sleeve. Their laughter warms the cedar room.

The children parade their details before him, turning in place while the elderly aunt watches fondly. When the gathering begins below, they guide him into the pagoda’s broad inner passage.

He leaves the family floor and climbs through the wooden tower toward the nineteenth level. Morning light narrows between the stair rails as the household sounds fade behind him.

At the male floor, the landing door stands shut and barred from within. No voices answer his presence, and the latch gives no movement beneath his hand.

The failed approach leaves him with a clear choice: return to the gathering below, or wait near the eastern stair and learn who wakes when the bell sounds.

She leads him to the eastern landing, where a narrow cedar bench faces the barred passage. The household bell hangs above, its cord within easy reach.

The aunt settles beside the screens rather than returning downstairs. As she draws the door’s inner bolt aside, the old wood gives a sharp crack, loud enough to carry through the tower.

From beyond the door comes a muffled stir, followed by a single cough. Below, the morning bell begins, and the first meal proceeds without them.

His question carries through the eastern corridor and beyond the barred landing. Another cough answers from the sleeping floor, followed by a rustle of hurried bedding.

The eastern door opens a handspan. A sleepy male voice mutters a complaint from within, while the aunt raises one finger, asking Lo pi to keep his voice low.

His warm observation carries through the half-open door and along the eastern landing. The sleepy corridor falls quiet, as though the household is listening despite itself.

Inside the male corridor, bedding shifts sharply. The hidden sleeper coughs again, then drags a wooden screen aside with an irritated scrape.

The words sharpen the quiet landing. The screen slides fully aside, revealing an adult man with a broad build, tousled black hair, and a creased blue sleeping robe.

He rises, folds his bedding aside, and reaches for a dark work coat. In his haste, a wooden basin tips from the wall shelf and crashes across the cedar floor.

He steps into the eastern passage fully dressed, gathers the basin pieces, and then heads down toward the service hall, awake and committed to the morning’s labor.

Lo pi smiles and shrugs, then keeps pace beside his aunt as they leave the eastern landing. Her layered plum dress brushes the cedar boards with each measured step.

She stops beneath the stair lantern and touches the clasp at her shoulder. It hangs crooked, leaving one formal layer uneven across her chest.

The elderly aunt turns toward a small linen alcove beside the service stair, while the young maid hurries ahead to fetch a needle, thread, and a polished clasp from the household chest.

Lo pi steps aside in the linen alcove, leaving the clasp and loose layers to the young maid’s practiced hands. The narrow space smells of clean cloth and cedar.

The young maid smooths the plum fabric, aligns the formal fold, and fastens the polished clasp beneath the elderly aunt’s shoulder. The robe falls evenly again.

The elderly aunt checks the clasp with two fingers, then gives the maid an approving nod. From the stairwell, voices and dishes rise from the busy public floors.